Melody to my Soul
by chidori-blossom237
Summary: When the group bring back a piano from the space mall, its presence causes an unexpected reaction in Shiro. Will he find the courage to face this new obstacle in front of him, or have the galra scored another point in their game of torment? Based on 8 prompt words. Post season 2 but Shiro didn't disappear after battling Zarkon.


**I need more Voltron friends. The words from the prompt generator were: Piano, Glove, Squealing, Planet, Study, Blushing, Bridge & Frame. This completely ran away with me. I'd never given it any thought before, but I suddenly fell in love with the idea of Shiro being able to play the piano, and play it well.**

 **Partly inspired by this amazing cover: watch?v=NUdlh5NYx2o**

 **I suggest listening to the piece while reading, from the point where Shiro starts playing, to help with visualization. I tried to match my writing pace with the music :)  
**

* * *

 **Melody to my soul**

The castle of lions was relatively quiet as it hung in space, drifting in a loose orbit around a large gas giant while Coran conducted some research at his control panel. He was attempting to draw a new source of energy from the planet which would increase the castle's efficiency – per Slav's request. Shiro was the altean's only company, sat in his chair with a display screen in front of him to monitor the energy outputs during the experiment. He didn't know all that much about the mechanics behind what Coran was attempting, but after nearly jettisoning Slav out into open space three times that same morning, the black paladin had retreated to the bridge to offer his services. In other words, Shiro was hiding.

"Bet you're regretting not going to the space mall now, aren't you, number one?" Coran asked over his shoulder, sending him a small smile.

Shiro sighed and brushed his white bangs back from his face. "No, it's better that I stayed," he murmured. "You needed someone to help you, and Allura really wanted to go to the mall last time. This was best for everyone." He shrugged. "Besides, I'd rather avoid being surrounded by strangers who'd recognise me as the Champion."

"I suppose situations like that are to be expected," Coran mused. "In that case, I appreciate the help." He turned around fully to look at Shiro, taking in the younger man's tired gaze and slightly slumped appearance. "But most of the tests are complete now. Why don't you go and get some rest?"

A blip appeared on Shiro's screen, forcing him upright as he reached out to tap it. "Go ahead."

 _"Hey Shiro,"_ Keith's voice came over the com link. _"That's us on our way back. We've got a space trailer hooked to the pod, just in case you're wondering what the extra reading is."_

"You bought that much?" Shiro asked fondly, and used his other hand to swipe across an icon on the screen. "I hope you didn't splurge all of our money, and there'd better not be another cow in there."

 _"Hey, what you got against Kaltenecker?"_ Lance's voice demanded.

Shiro rolled his eyes and chuckled. "Nothing. Opening pod bay doors. Welcome back everyone." He deactivated the screen once the pod had entered the castle, then took a moment to stretch before he climbed to his feet. "I'm going to head down and meet them," he told Coran.

"Righto," Coran replied. "Just remember not to kill Slav. We promised to provide him with safe passage back to Olkarion, so no more falling out between the two of you."

Grumbling as he headed for the door, Shiro massaged at his temples and let out a sigh. "Right. I'll keep that in mind."

When he arrived in the pod bay a few moments later, Shiro couldn't help but blink at the size of the space trailer Keith had told him about. The thing was nearly the same size as the pod, and when Hunk unlocked the back door several boxes of items almost smacked him in the face. Pidge was quick to catch a few, and her squealing of excitement told Shiro that she must have bought another rare game – she'd successfully created a power interface to use the earth technology with the castle's hi-spec monitors several weeks ago, and had been dying to get back to the space mall ever since.

"Looks like you bought an entire shop's worth," Shiro smiled, joining the group as they all gathered round the back of the trailer.

"Not exactly," Hunk grinned. "Though it did come close a few times. But Lance entered this raffle thing and we won the grand prize, so then we had to get the trailer just to bring it back."

Shiro raised an eyebrow, wondering what in the name of Voltron Lance had won, when he caught Keith glancing at him out the corner of his eye. He turned to look at the red paladin, curious about his behaviour, only for Keith to just as quickly glance away.

"We also needed the extra space to accommodate all of Slav's requests," Allura pointed out, and she giggled when Shiro rolled his eyes. "How is he getting on with the new programs on the training deck?"

Shiro shrugged, too tired to care. "No idea. Ever since you all left he's refused to come out and will only communicate with Coran. He seems convinced he won't survive this reality if he speaks to me."

"That seems highly probable," Pidge grinned, and Shiro didn't mind hearing them all snicker around him because it reminded him that they were home safe.

"Hey guys, let's get all this stuff unpacked," Lance spoke up a moment later, and climbed into the back of the trailer. "I need some help with my new toy."

"I should get to the bridge and see how Coran is doing," Allura decided. "I'll return for my things later."

Keith moved closer to Shiro's side while the princess left and stood next to him. He didn't say anything straight away, choosing instead to give Shiro's arm a gentle nudge with his elbow. "You okay?" he asked at last.

Shiro smiled at him tiredly and nodded. "Just a little worn out. You know what I'm like whenever Slav is around."

The corner of Keith's lips quirked up in a tiny smirk. "Yeah, the way I'm like when I spend too much time around Lance."

"Hey!" Lance shouted from inside the trailer, knocking a few boxes out which narrowly missed Pidge's toes. "Quit complaining about me and come help, mullet! Shiro, we could use that superhuman strength of yours too."

Curiosity finally piqued, Shiro approached the trailer and looked inside. "What have you even got in there?" he asked, watching as Lance cleared more boxes off something with a large flat surface and four legs on caster wheels. A table? Work bench?

"Careful, it's fragile!" Pidge said and jumped in. "I'm still amazed it's in perfect working order."

"From what we can tell," Hunk added. Shiro noticed that he had a small handheld control panel, and watched as the yellow paladin hit a few buttons. There was a light hiss followed by the mechanical sound of pistons extending, and then the bottom of the trailer eased out and lowered itself down onto the floor. Lance and Pidge had remained onboard for the ride, and as the last remaining boxes were cleared away Shiro finally noticed the distinctive shape of the strange mystery object, currently covered with protective sheeting. He couldn't believe his eyes.

"Is that…a piano?"

Sporting a sly smile, Lance grabbed the sheeting and whipped it off with dramatic flair, revealing the polished black finish of the impressive musical instrument. "Not just any piano," he declared. "It's a grand piano!"

"He has eyes, Lance," Keith grumbled. "Shiro knows what a grand piano is."

With those words slowly clicking into place in Shiro's mind, his eyes once again sought out Keith, openly staring when the red paladin looked back at him. Keith said nothing and held the eye contact, standing calmly under Shiro's disbelieving gaze. At least he now knew why Keith had been looking at him so carefully when they'd first arrived back.

"Okay," Shiro said, clearing his voice gently to get all their attention. "Just one question then; where is it going?"

"We were thinking the observation deck," Lance replied, leaning back casually against the piano. "I figured it would look good there, in front of the window looking out into space. It's almost poetic."

Hunk sniggered. "Since when are you in touch with your creative side?"

"Hey, don't knock it. You'll all be calling me the maestro by the time this day is over."

Shiro blinked. "You play?"

Lance smirked. "I do indeed."

"That'll be a sight to behold," Pidge deadpanned.

"I'd better find my earplugs," Keith muttered.

"Shut up, Keith!"

* * *

The piano, as it turned out, was a big hit with Allura and Coran. Apparently it was like no instrument they had ever known to exist on Altea, and the range of sounds that came from the pressing of each key made them giddy with delight. Even the mice seemed to enjoy it, running up and down the keys repeatedly until Allura gently ushered them away. Slav had been distinctly unimpressed however, and deemed the instrument a waste of space and time when it had failed to reveal any hi-tech components that the alien genius could utilise elsewhere in the castle. He could make no sense of the strange earth object with its eighty-eight keys of varying tones, and concluded that it served no purpose in any reality he could imagine.

This opinion was completely ignored by Lance, who thrived on the attention he received from Allura, when he clicked his fingers for dramatic effect and dove into a rendition of the Flea Waltz, which made Shiro almost crack his teeth with the tightening of his own jaw. While it was a tune, when played repeatedly it quickly morphed into the most annoying song the black paladin had ever heard, and Shiro had later taken all of his frustration out on the gladiator on the training deck.

Things didn't get any better for several days. Coran had been quick to learn the dreaded piece, though he couldn't play it as fast as Lance, but he practiced every day on his down time until Shiro was convinced his ears were bleeding. Then it got even worse! On his way back from the training deck, after another bout with the gladiator, Shiro's ears had picked up on the very distinct notes of another song echoing through the castle halls, though Shiro was reluctant to call it an actual song. Lance was teaching Allura Chopsticks! At what was essentially one o'clock in the morning! That had been the final straw for Shiro, who had proceeded to march into the observation deck and send the pair immediately to bed, banning any further use of the piano for the rest of the day. To say he wasn't the most popular after that was an understatement, but Shiro was long past the point of caring.

It soon became apparent that the presence of the piano in the castle was causing Shiro to act out of sorts whenever mentioned, which in turn made everyone else even more curious as to why this was the case. The group were getting a lot of mixed signals from their normally calm and composed leader, yet so far none of them had found the courage to approach Shiro directly and ask why. Instead they kept quiet, and turned over the confusing situation in their heads whenever they had a free moment to spare - which wasn't terribly often. So far only two details were obvious. Shiro seemed to have some kind of issue with the piano being on the ship, but at the same time he was oddly protective over the instrument; Slav had been told to stay well away on multiple occasions, Lance had been scolded for slamming the fallboard, and even Allura had not escaped a gentle reprimand for poking around at the strings and hammers within the case.

It didn't make sense - Shiro's apparent aversion to the instrument contradicted his curious efforts to protect it from any abuse, and there was no explanation for it. So why was he getting all bent out of shape? Only Keith seemed to have any inkling about the whole situation, but so far he had chosen not to share this information with his fellow paladins. It wasn't until Pidge and Hunk cornered him in the kitchen several mornings later, after a tough mission with Voltron the night before, that Keith realised he'd have to come clean.

"We wanna know what you know," Pidge insisted, adjusting her glasses on her face as she stared up at Keith. "Ever since we brought that piano back Shiro has been acting really weird."

"I'll say," Hunk agreed. "It's got us worried. He got really mad at Slav again the other day when he mentioned taking it apart for raw materials."

Keith sighed and yanked open the fridge door, grabbing a bottle of milk (courtesy of Kaltenecker) from one of the shelves. "Shiro gets mad at Slav all the time," he pointed out, and shoved the fridge shut with his foot while he turned away. "It's kind of their thing. Slav says something, and Shiro wants to strangle him."

"Yeah, but this is different," Pidge retorted, hurrying round to block Keith's path before the taller paladin could leave. "It's not just Slav. Yesterday he scolded Allura for being too rough on the keys. _Shiro_. Scolded _Allura_."

Hunk nodded his head when Keith gave him a pleading look. "You have to admit that's out of character."

Keith turned his scowl towards the floor, seemingly seeking advice from his shadow and then growling when he didn't get the answer he wanted. He huffed out a short breath and closed his eyes. "Fine, you win. I do know why Shiro is out of sorts, but I don't want to say because it's not really my place."

Pidge and Hunk shared a brief glance – finally they were getting somewhere. "It's not like we're gonna broadcast it or anything," Hunk continued, rounding Keith and drawing his attention back to them both. "We just want to know if there's anything we can do to help. We know Shiro has walls and secrets. Hell, it's more than understandable after everything he's been through. But you have to agree that he's seemed really down lately, and it all started with that piano."

Pidge nodded behind him. "Almost wish we hadn't won the damn thing. It's all Lance's fault."

With impeccable timing, Lance stepped into the kitchen, wrapped in his blue dressing gown and wearing his lion slippers. "I thought my ears were burning," he exclaimed, and immediately shot a dirty look at Keith. "What am I being blamed for now?"

"Hey, Pidge said it, not me!" Keith spluttered, returning the look with a scowl of his own.

"We're talking about the piano," Hunk explained. "And Shiro. Haven't you noticed how weird he's been acting around it these last few days?"

Lance let out a quiet snort and moved to the fridge. "I'd have to be blind not to," he answered. "Why? What's with the sudden interest?"

Pidge folded her arms and looked towards Keith. "Keith knows something and isn't telling us."

That drew Lance's attention in an instant, as he forgot about the fridge and turned to set his gaze on the red paladin. "Is that so?" Keith's scowl deepened, but as usual Lance was completely unperturbed by it and just stared back. "Don't you think you ought to share with us?" the blue paladin challenged. "We're supposed to be a team. That means no secrets."

Keith grit his teeth. "This isn't my secret to tell. I don't _want_ to tell you."

Lance took a step forward. "And I don't want Coran to put those stupid headbands on us again and make us look into each other's head holes! Which is exactly what he's going to do if he finds out we're keeping secrets that could affect the team!"

Keith scoffed. "You're just using that as a convenient excuse to stick your nose in!"

Pidge immediately stepped in between the two and held up her hands, silencing them before things could escalate into a full on fight. "Guys, stop! None of this is helping anyone." She waited a moment until they had both calmed down, and was secretly amazed when Keith didn't storm out of the room. The girl sighed; sometimes all she wanted to do was bang their heads together. "Look," she began more quietly, and lowered her arms. "For some reason, ever since we brought that piano on board, Shiro has been acting weird. What's important now is that we figure out the reason behind it, and do what we can to make things easier for him. Agreed?"

"I second that," Hunk chipped in, raising a hand. "It seems silly that an instrument is causing all this fuss, but Shiro wouldn't act this way without good reason."

Lance nodded, still looking at Keith but with a little less intensity. "Exactly. So let's put all the arguing aside for the moment and focus on the task at hand." His eyes softened just a touch, while some tension eased from his shoulders. "Keith, you know what the problem is, but if you don't tell us then we can't help."

Keith flicked at the lid of his milk bottle with his thumb nail, a little uncomfortable but in agreement with them for the most part. He wanted to protect Shiro's feelings and not betray his trust, but at the same time he took no pleasure in seeing the older man suffer, especially over something that had once brought him such joy. Then again, that was probably why it made Shiro so sad now. Keith heaved a sigh and let his shoulders drop.

"He used to play," he admitted, voice quiet just in case Shiro came by. "Before, well, everything. He told me once that his grandmother taught him how to play when he was very small, and just from hearing him talk about it I knew it made him happy."

Hunk blinked, somewhat mesmerised by the idea of their fearless leader playing something as delicate and skillful as a piano. "You ever hear him play?" The question was out before he realised it.

"A few times," Keith confirmed. "Someone brought a keyboard into the garrison once – no idea why - and I heard it being played when I was having a study period. Turned out it was Shiro, and he went bright red when he noticed I'd caught him playing."

Pidge tilted her head. "Shiro blushing?" she asked, a fond smile working its way onto her lips.

Keith shrugged. "Probably because I complimented him about it. He was really good."

" _Was_?" Hunk repeated, catching on to Keith's words and what they may mean.

The red paladin sat on a stool by the counter, weighed down by his concerns for their leader and friend. "Yeah. I didn't say anything to him at the time, but he might not be able to play anymore. The galra took his arm after all, and I don't know how well metal fingers would work across piano keys, or if his hand has the same movement required to play. Shiro's probably come to that conclusion too."

That thought, along with their knowledge of what else had happened to Shiro during his captivity, made everyone pause and subsequently look to the floor. A ball of dread settled in Keith's stomach while the silence echoed off the walls, and he clenched his fist against the counter. He couldn't help but feel like he was betraying Shiro's trust by telling them all this, even if it was to try and help him.

"And now he sees it as something else the galra took from him," Lance mused, filling in the blanks with a heavy heart. Would Shiro ever catch a break? It just seemed to be one thing after another. No wonder the poor guy wasn't in the right frame of mind.

"We can't just let him give up though," Pidge insisted, turning all their heads. "We don't know for sure if Shiro can't play anymore or not, so shouldn't we be trying to find a way to encourage him? That seems a lot better than leaving him to deal with this all on his own."

"Yeah, but you know what Shiro's like," Hunk reminded her. "He's not a big fan of fuss and prefers to keep his problems locked up tight. He might not want to talk about it with any of us."

Pidge growled and spun round, her hair flicking sharply with her growing annoyance. "Well I'm not going to stand here and do nothing," she insisted. "I can't give Shiro his arm back, but if I can find a way for him to have at least a little happiness and play that damn piano, then I'm going to make it happen."

Keith raised an eyebrow curiously. "And how exactly are you going to do that?"

Pidge hesitated, before her shoulders sagged when she realised she didn't have an answer. She couldn't exactly sit Shiro down in front of the piano and ask him if he could play completely out of the blue. If Shiro had doubts about his own ability, then he was never going to willingly display them in front of anybody - he was too private for that.

"We could set something up to entice him in?" Lance suggested at length. "Pretend one of us wants to meet him there and then just not show up."

"Yeah, but how would that lead to him trying to play?" Keith asked. "He'd probably just hang around for a while and then come looking for us."

Lance rubbed carefully at his chin, a quiet hum leaving his throat. "We could bait him, maybe? Leave something for him to find that might encourage him to give it a shot?"

"Such as?" Hunk asked.

Pidge snapped her fingers. "I might have an idea for that," she announced. "Assuming the issue is just Shiro's metal fingers and not their dexterity, then it should be a simple fix. I can probably determine that from the data I already have on his arm, and then act accordingly."

While both Hunk and Lance seemed to be accepting enough of this new plan they'd conjured up, Keith had reservations. "Hang on guys, slow down a minute. Have any of you stopped to think that Shiro might not want this? If Pidge's plan doesn't work and he really can't play anymore, he's going to be upset. He's not going to want us all to see that."

"So, we don't let him know that we're all in on it," Lance told him. "Let Pidge do her thing, Hunk and I will just act like normal, and you can be the one to invite Shiro into the observation deck."

Keith sighed, still troubled by the idea, and how it could potentially go wrong. "Why me?"

Lance smiled a little. "Because you're the one he trusts most. Take it from someone who comes from a big family - occasionally when a person has a confidence issue, all they need is a gentle push in the right direction, from the person closest to them. That's you, Keith. Not me, not Pidge, and not Hunk. You."

It was the honest truth. The paladins had been thrown together through crazy circumstances that none of them could ever have anticipated, and while they had grown closer over time and bonded as a team and family, Keith was the one who had known Shiro the longest. It made sense for him to be the one to reach out to Shiro, and hopefully get him past this small hurdle that had appeared before him. The others would do what they could from the background, but it had to be Keith who initiated things.

The red paladin sighed again and gave a single nod of his head. "Okay, I'll do it."

Pidge beamed and turned towards the door. "In that case I'd better get started. I'll need to look through the data I have and find a suitable material to make a glove for him." She was out the door before the other three could reply, disappearing off in a flurry of determination. It was no secret how close Pidge and Shiro were, through their connection with the Kerberos mission, so it wasn't altogether surprising that Pidge wanted to get to work straight away. Keith actually felt a little guilty for not being as enthusiastic about the whole idea. He was more worried about it going wrong.

"Do you really think this will work?" he murmured, finally opening his milk bottle and toying with the lid.

Lance crossed the floor and stopped in front of Keith, and after a brief pause he rested his hand on the older teen's shoulder. "Pidge will get it done. Don't worry about it." Keith returned the smile faintly, and could only hope that Lance was right.

* * *

Later that evening, after dinner, Shiro headed for the observation deck and stepped inside. Keith had quietly mentioned about wanting to talk to him later that evening while they'd been eating, and asked Shiro to meet him there. It was a place that they were both in the habit of retreating to whenever something was on their mind, so Shiro naturally expected that whatever Keith wished to discuss with him was important, and had headed down a few minutes ahead of their agreed time.

"Hey, Keith?" he called over the gentle 'whoosh' of the doors, and peered around the large room in the dim green light. He was met with complete silence, and no Keith. It was just Shiro, the wide expanse of space beyond the glass in front of him…and the piano. The black paladin frowned a little, but decided to wait. Keith had said he was going to face off against the gladiator first, so perhaps he was just running a bit late in getting cleaned up. It was easily done. However, when at least ten doboshes had passed and there was still no sign of the younger man, Shiro began to grow concerned. Had Keith maybe taken a fall and been hurt on the training deck? It wouldn't be the first time, though generally an alarm went off to alert everyone else in the castle of any accidents. Perhaps he'd been caught up by someone else in the corridor instead? That seemed likely enough.

The doors slid open and Shiro turned, expecting to see Keith and instead finding Pidge standing just over the threshold. The girl had something in her hands, but Shiro couldn't make it out because she was silhouetted against the doorway. She trotted inside and passed him, moving across to place whatever she had with her on the piano stool. "Hey, Shiro," she greeted. "If you're waiting for Keith, he'll be here in a minute. Coran wanted to speak to him about something."

Shiro blinked, but took Pidge at her word without hesitation. "Okay, thanks for telling me." He tried to have a look at what she'd placed on the stool. "What you got there?"

Pidge turned back to face him and smiled. "Just something Keith asked me to get for him," she replied before shrugging her shoulders, feigning ignorance. "Don't ask me why." She wandered closer and stared up at him, eyes hopeful. "Hey, later on could I maybe have another look at your arm? I think I've come up with a more efficient way to store information in it, which will come in handy whenever we next hack into a galra computer system."

Unbeknownst to Shiro, the question was directed at him for the sole purpose of distracting him from what she'd just placed on the piano stool, at least until she could get away. It worked like a charm as he smiled and nodded. "Sure. I'll head down once I'm done here with Keith."

Pidge returned the nod and hurried off again, turning the corner as soon as she was out the room. Once she'd disappeared, Shiro folded his arms and went back to waiting, sending a brief glance towards the piano stool. Another few doboshes passed before curiosity won out, and then he sighed and moved to investigate. Having been half expecting the object to be some high tech gizmo that Pidge liked to tinker with, Shiro found himself mildly surprised when he realised it was a single right-hand glove, and an accompanying note. Very simple. Very low tech. Very un-Pidge-like.

What use did Keith have for one glove, especially considering he preferred to wear fingerless ones? Also, why particularly a right one, and why now? If anyone would have use for a lone glove, it would be Shiro. So why did Keith-

Shiro frowned as his brain slowly started to put the pieces together. A glove for a right hand, Pidge's random appearance, and Keith not turning up for this supposed meeting. This whole thing was beginning to smell like a set up, and made Shiro eye the piano warily. It couldn't be...

"What are they up to?" he wondered aloud, picking up the note first and skimming through the rather messy handwriting. He caught his bottom lip carefully between his teeth as the words slowly seeped into his brain, touching at something deep inside that Shiro had long since thought would remain locked away forever. He felt a phantom itch in the fingers he no longer possessed, curling his prosthetic replacements into a loose fist at his side. A part of him wanted to stomp down on the feelings slowly rising in his chest, afraid he might choke on them if he suddenly let them overflow after all this time. But Keith's words, messily executed but carefully considered, were honest and logical.

 _If you feel up to trying, it would make me really happy._

Shiro's eyes slid away from the note and down to the glove on the stool, where it had been placed with the best intentions to wait for him, right under his nose. It looked very similar to the gloves that made up part of their paladin uniforms, and Shiro was able to confirm that as he lifted it up and rubbed the material between his flesh fingers. His brain was starting to catch on to Keith's way of thinking, as he hadn't given much explanation to the glove in his note. Metal fingers on piano keys weren't exactly ideal, but the thin extra layer of material could potentially replicate the slight friction and grip of skin. So maybe…

 _"Never be afraid to play, Takashi,"_ Shiro recalled hearing his grandmother say once, many years ago when he'd been a young boy still trying to find his direction in life. _"Music speaks when words fail, so let it comfort you."_

Shiro sat down on the stool before he even realised it, easing the glove on gently over his galra hand. It was a snug fit, comfortable without being constricting. He flexed the fingers a few times, rubbed them together, and then reached for a key. "I'm still not convinced, obaachan," he murmured, listening to the soft tone of a C beneath his fingertip, echoing slightly within the main body of the piano. "But since you never lied to me…" His left hand lifted slowly to rest upon the cool smoothness of the ivorite, and his fingers splayed out in a movement that felt both beautifully familiar, and achingly distant. Muscle memory, it seemed, was no problem with his left hand – Shiro tried a few chords and took some comfort in the gentle thrumming tones that washed over him.

His right hand looked wrong against the piano, even with the glove, as unskilled metal tried to replicate the movements of talented flesh and bone that had long since been lost. His fingertips hit notes too heavily, made him wince at the sharp sounds and almost chased him away then and there. He didn't understand how something that had once been so easy to him could now be considered comforting when he was an utter failure at it. Shiro had been right all along. He would never play piano again.

 _"Patience yields focus, Takashi. Don't give up so easily."_

Shiro almost wanted to cry, feeling like he was reverting to the ten-year-old boy who'd run to his grandmother with frustrated tears when he'd failed to do something. The harshness of reality hit him like a block of ice to the chest, as he yearned for the person he had once been. Someone whole and untainted, not the broken and reformed monster the galra had turned him into; their twisted technology forced to merge with his body and hold the shattered fragments of his mind together, with a lie that he was complete.

The shrill cry of discord brought him back to himself with a sharp gasp, startled enough to draw a gulp of air into his screaming lungs. His prosthetic shook slightly, the echo of the keys he'd just slammed still hanging faintly in the air. Shiro slumped back and closed his eyes, knowing that he needed a moment to decompress, and allowed himself a few ticks where he did nothing but breathe. "Patience. Yields. Focus."

He tried again, willing the nerves connected to his prosthetic to instruct the gears and bearings to do his bidding, and play the way he wanted to. Needed to. This time, with a more collected approach, the notes rang out gently through the observation deck, as Shiro focussed all of his attention on the keys. A few simple scales and arpeggios to get back into the swing of things, and the tension wrapped around his shoulders finally began to ease off. Maybe he'd needed to have the slight breakdown in front of the piano after all, because all of a sudden, he felt like he could breathe again. He felt free.

Once he decided he had practiced enough and was satisfied with his metal hand's ability, he let his fingertips brush gently down the full length of the piano, and settled on the opening keys of the first song that came to his mind. When he began to play, the light melody felt tentative under metal fingers, but his left hand moved in instinctively to provide support with a few simple chords. Shiro was rediscovering his love for music, and venturing out into a part of his life he'd thought he would never get to experience again. The piano began to come to life, fragile notes growing louder with his rising confidence. In a way it was very much like flying – terrifying, but exhilarating.

"I'm starting to get this," he murmured, basking in the comforting familiarity of music he was creating. Distinctly human. A little wobbly in a few places, but never giving up, picking up speed and finding a rhythm. Falling into sync. In a way, Shiro was reminded of when he'd first started piloting the black lion. The melody sang of their meeting, where they rushed to get to know one another, and the chords stood up in declaration of their bond. A bold statement of strength and reassurance, ready to take on the galra and face each challenge head on.

The hesitation and nervousness left Shiro completely as he allowed himself to be absorbed in his playing, head moving gently to follow the movements of his hands that were now making the keys dance to his tune. The pedals under his feet felt firm and steady, just like in the black lion, the strength in the chords reminded him of the first time he'd seen through her eyes, and a distinct purr settled in the back of his mind as accompaniment. He felt alive.

Elsewhere in the castle, unbeknownst to Shiro, the speaker systems activated and sang out his playing. Outside the observation deck, Pidge sat on the floor near a wall panel, gripping her pad and trying not to tear up as a huge smile broke out across her face. This was the Shiro she had hoped to witness; the one Keith had spoken of with such fondness and wished to meet again. This wasn't the legendary pilot lost on the Kerberos mission, the Champion of Zarkon's gladiator ring, or the paladin of the black lion of Voltron. This was Shirogane Takashi. Simple, yet wonderful. It didn't seem to matter what happened to Shiro – he was still amazing.

The music flowed through the castle, drawing everyone away from their activities to seek out its source; from Hunk in the kitchen to Coran all the way down in the energy arch generator room, they all came together. Convened outside the observation deck, they gathered at the doorway to peek carefully inside at Shiro, smiling as music pulsed through his body, sliding from his fingertips effortlessly into the keys.

"Wow..." Lance breathed, mouth almost hanging open in awe and disbelief.

Keith sent him a knowing smile. "Amazing, huh?" Lance just nodded, blown away by what he was seeing and hearing.

If moral had been low at all, it was instantly forgotten. Allura's eyes sparkled as she clasped her hands to her chest, feeling about ready to cry at the beauty of the piece, and the honesty with which Shiro performed it. Coran smiled with Hunk and Pidge, and Keith and Lance even shared a rare fist bump, after the red paladin offered one in silent thanks - Lance had been right about Shiro needing a push. This moment would remain with all of them for a long time, drawn together by the influence of music created by one so dear to them.

The melody reverberated through the air, reflecting Shiro's passion, bouncing off the walls to wrap the others in a warm acoustic blanket. His white bangs flicked back and forth across his forehead, swished from side to side as he lost himself in the deep tones and high lilting chimes of every bar and beat, eyes closing as his fingers carried him through a descending scale that his prosthetic performed expertly. The rest of the team felt privileged to witness such a rare display of open emotion from the black paladin, so caught up in his performance that he remained completely unaware of their presence.

The music he played spoke of his life, all the hardships he'd had to endure, how he'd survived them and was now standing tall to face whatever fate had in store for him next. But there was happiness too, a sense of belonging in the excited flurry of his fingers, each touch of a key reminding him of precious memories he'd made with his new, dysfunctional space family. And if Shiro was at all embarrassed when he finished playing, drawing the piece to a gentle and natural end with the last few brushes of the keys, before spotting them all gathered in the doorway, then it was all the more reason for them to rush in and surround him with enthusiastic hugs and words of praise and encouragement.

Keith reached for Shiro once the taller man was released from a tight embrace by Hunk, and squeezed his shoulder. "You're still the best," he said quietly, flashing one of his rare smiles. The slightly bashful, but genuinely happy shine in Shiro's eyes as he smiled back suddenly made all the hassle Keith had gone through in bringing the piano back to the castle worth it. And so began an evening of requests for more of the wonderful music, accompanied by laughter and comforting stories of home, and a few short lessons in how to play anything that wasn't the Flea Waltz or Chopsticks.

* * *

 **I must admit I'm kind of nervous sharing this. Partly because I had so much fun writing it that I don't want people to knock it, but that's always a risk to take when anyone shares their writing, I guess. Anyway, if you liked this, please drop me a review to let me know.**


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